


Property of James Bond

by softestpink



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: I swear, Kitchen Sex, M/M, PWP, Prompt Fic, Q just wants tea, a bit OOC, jealous!Bond, my hand slipped, possessive!Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 03:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Q limps a bit when he comes into the office that morning...well no one says anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property of James Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from never-in-the-room on   
> Tumblr...enjoy

Q slips out of his bedroom with a headache from Hell, glad that Trevor at least had the brains to leave before he woke up. Earl Grey. He needs it. Now. He stumbles to the kitchen half-blind, wisps of hair trailing over his eyes as he reaches out for a cup.  
  
“Hello, Q.”  
  
The Quartermaster jerks in response when he hears an unexpected voice, managing to break one of his favorite mugs on the tiled floor. James. The agent stands not three feet away, leaning on a small table.     
  
“Bond, what the bloody hell?! You can’t just break into my flat”  
  
“You’re calling old boyfriends for late-night fucks then? I’m assuming the bloke who crawled out of here an hour ago still pulling on his trousers isn’t your brother.” James ignores Q’s indignant fuming and jumps straight to the point.  
  
“ _YOU’VE BEEN HERE FOR AN HOUR?!_ ” Q sputters and whips around to put on his tea, because honestly he doesn’t have the patience for this conversation yet.  
  
Q turns back to face him and Bond shrugs. “I wanted to talk.”  
  
“You wanted. To talk.” Q blows out air and pushes his hair back. He doesn’t need this right now. “I seem to remember our last conversation quite vividly. Don’t you?”  
  
It comes out even colder than he’d intended, which Q won’t feel bad about. Bond, however, seems to be amused. Q remembers Bond touching him, circling an around his waist, dragging them closer together, and then walking away without another word.  
  
“Are you angry, Q? Hmm?” he moves closer, trapping Q between his arms against the counter. Q tries to ignore the heat of James’ arms against his, but it really doesn’t help that James is biting his ear, whispering filthy things about how he’s going to fuck Q so hard that he’ll feel come dripping out of his arse for the rest of the week.    
  
“You- you said- you rejected me before, Bond.” he mumbles, eyelids drooping in pleasure as James skims a hand into his pants, gripping a slender hip.  
  
“Actually” the blond man breathes against the nape of Q’s neck. “you’ll recall that I left without saying anything.” He buries his face into Q’s messy curls and the young tech bites his lip when he feels James’ hand drift further down to trail fingers against his shaft.  
  
“Precisely” Q grunts and scrambles for some form of mental resistance as James slowly pumps his cock from behind.  
  
“M needed me. Besides. Does this feel like rejection to you, Quartermaster?” he whispers, and Q is more than a little embarrassed at his high-pitched moan when Bond suddenly slips a wet finger down the crease of his arse.  
  
“I- James” he’d had a brilliant retort planned but now Bond is sliding his finger in slowly, pumping his cock at a harsh rhythm simultaneously. Q almost wants to cry from overstimulation because it’s too good.  
  
“Yes?” his agent replies with a hint of a chuckle and Q is sagging against his chest, unable to hold himself up on such shaky legs.  
  
“There?” Bond asks as he rubs two fingers against Q’s prostate, thrusting slowly but with measurable strength. Q’s resounding yell seems to answer the question. “It would seem so.”        
  
Q squirms up against his crotch deliciously, and James groans as he feels precome sliding across his fingers on Q’s cock.  
  
“ _JamesJamesJames_ I need-” Bond cuts him off as he pulls out and leans down to yank Q’s blue pants down to his knees. He wastes no time opening his trousers and his erection springs forward against Q’s still-wet hole.  
  
“I’ve got you.” he pants and then James is surging forward, thick cock spearing its way into Q’s tightness. James nearly collapses at the feel of Q fluttering around him, wet and smooth like hot velvet gripping him into place. He fucks Q hard, shoving him up against the counter roughly, chanting his true name into his ear as he pushes them to the brink.  
  
Q reaches down to touch himself, but Bond catches his wrist and slaps it against the cold surface.  
  
“That’s _mine_ , Q” he pants into the younger man’s ear, threading their fingers together. He slaps Q’s arse as he continues to drive them together, fucking his Quartermaster with abandon. “This is too. Isn’t it Q? Isn’t this pretty arse mine?”  
  
Q doesn’t answer, too caught up in the wet, obscene sounds of James bringing them together again and again. He cries out when James slams against his prostate, and the older man curses at the feel of Q clenching him. James thrusts against his prostate on every shove, sending shocks of pleasure twisting through Q’s writhing body. Q gasps hard, trying as best as he can to stave off his impending orgasm, but James can feel it. In the way he shakes. The way sweat pours down his slender back.  He grabs Q’s dick, unbearably hard, and pumps until his Quartermaster comes hot and hard against his belly with a last cry of Bond’s name. All it takes is two more thrusts and Q’s hands clenching his neck for James to follow.  
  
If Q limps a bit when he comes into the office that morning...well no one says anything.


End file.
